


Dome

by Solitude_of_Stars



Series: FairgameWeek 2020 [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Day One: Semblances, M/M, fairgameweek2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solitude_of_Stars/pseuds/Solitude_of_Stars
Summary: Clover's semblance is like snowflakes. It's light and soft and flowing all around him, easy to catch and to channel into his pin.Qrow's semblance is not that poetic or easy to deal with. He still tries though.***My entry for Day 1 of FairgameWeek2020: Semblances
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: FairgameWeek 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666111
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	Dome

**Author's Note:**

> I didn´t quite manage to finish the whole story in time. So I will post the first chapter now and the other ones later (probably next week). I plan on two more chapters. (Knowing myself, I will probably end up with at least five more, but oh well, that is a problem for future-Solitude, not me :D)

“You have no control over your semblance, whatsoever?”

They sit in the back of a transport, between cargo boxes and emergency blankets. Again. Qrow wonders if this is going to be his life from now on. Supply runs and blankets and playing cards with only the other man as his company. If yes, he isn’t sure he likes it.

Clover is nice enough, that’s for sure, but he is also way too observant for Qrow’s taste, and much too curious.

He sighs and puts down his handful of cards, every single one of them as useless as ever. “That’s not quite right, I suppose. It is always active, nothing I can do about that, but I can enhance it by using my Aura. That only makes it more violent though. So I guess I’ve got some control over the extend of my semblance, but not over who or what gets effected or when.” He throws the man on the other side of their makeshift table a questioning look. “Is it different for you?”

“Yes and no. It’s the same for me in that it is always active. Haven´t found a way around that, but it was never that high on my list of priorities to be honest.” He does look a little apologetic but Qrow only waves it aside. He’d think the same if he were in Clover’s position. “What I can do is to channel a good portion of it into this little heirloom here, so I can tap into it when I feel I need a little more than my ‘normal’ amount of luck.”

He takes off his shamrock pin and hands it to Qrow, but the man hesitates. “You sure?”

Clover only winks at him, something that has also been occurring more and more during the last few days, even weeks if he stops long enough to think about it. Not that he does, because that would open a whole other can of worms that he doesn´t think he is ready for yet.

“Don’t worry, you won´t taint it with your semblance, or whatever self-depreciating thoughts you just had about it.” Too trusting, Qrow thinks, too supportive, too optimistic. And it is contagious, that’s the worst thing about Clover.

When he closes his hand around the pin, he expects cold metal. It is thrumming with Clovers’ spare semblance though, soft and good and _warm,_ and Qrow can’t help but shudder at the feeling of it.

“How are you channeling it?” he asks as he passes the clover-shaped pin back to its owner.

“I meditate every evening. When I concentrate enough on my semblance, I can feel it all around me. On good days, I can even see it before my inner eye.”

“You mean your Aura?”

Clover shakes his head. “No, my Aura is green. This is …” he thinks for a moment, seemingly grasping for words to describe something indescribable. “You could maybe describe it like tiny snowflakes or dust particles hovering in the air. To be honest, I always imagined stardust looking like that.” A shimmer of red appears on his cheeks. “They are golden though, that´s why I know that it’s not my Aura.”

Qrow only stares at him.

Clover laughs. “Yeah, I know how that sounds, but believe me when I tell you that it works. Every night, I ‘collect’ some of the stardust or however you want to call it, and channel it into my pin. You can´t see it of course, but I know you felt it. It’s there. It is real. And it works.”

“So you want me to do the same? Meditate on my semblance and collect it into something?”

Clover just shrugs. “It can´t hurt to try.”

“Yeah” Qrow murmurs and stares down at the discarded hand of cards. It surely wouldn´t hurt to try.

***

Except that it does. Kind of.

Not in a physical sense, but emotionally.

He wouldn´t admit it, but he had gotten his hopes up after that supply run with Clover, so when he sits down on his bed that evening to try and meditate, it does hurt when nothing happens.

No snowflakes.

No stardust.

No semblance.

Frustration kicks in and he grabs his scroll and types “My semblance sucks at manifesting itself”. He sends it and proceeds to fall face first onto his pillow.

Just as he is about to doze off there is a knock on his door.

He groans and contemplates for a second to just ignore it, but no matter who the visitor is, family, kids or one of his other acquaintances he has made in Atlas, he knows they won´t leave him alone. So he gets up and pads to his door.

It´s Clover. Of course it is Clover.

Who looks at him in a way he doesn´t quite understand until Qrow realizes that he had taken off his clothes when he came home and hadn´t been motivated enough to look for clean ones, so he had put on some soft pajama bottoms and nothing else. Well, nothing he can do about it now he thinks and steps aside to let the man into his room.

“I brought tea.”

Qrow looks at the Ace Op, puzzled. “Thanks. I got my own tea though.”

Clover shrugs. “This one helps me concentrate whenever my head is too full to meditate.”

Qrow sighs. “I don´t really think that is the issue here” but nonetheless gestures to the only chair in the room before taking the tea out of the Ace Ops’ hand and padding to his small kitchenette. He takes two cups out of the drying rack and places them on the counter before putting water into the kettle.

Clover sits, with his legs on either side of the chair and his chin on the backrest. He starts swinging the chair around, one, two, three times. “Okay, then what _do_ you think is the issue?” he asks while turning.

What a dork.

Qrow snorts. “My semblance being an asshole, for one. Also, I am not sure I am all that good at this esoteric stuff.”

Clover stops rather abruptly and frowns at Qrow. “That’s not what meditating is about and anyone who tells you otherwise is just uninformed.” He rolls to Qrow’s bed and pads on it invitingly. “Come on, sit” he says, just as the water starts boiling. Qrow sighs again but fixes the tea and slowly crosses the room. He passes one cup to Clover who thanks him with a smile before sitting down on the bed, cross-legged and with a sceptic look on his face. He inhales the aroma of the tea. It’s lavender and that does usually calm his mind down a notch or two. Not that he will ever admit to it.

“Okay, shoot. What do I have to do?”

Clover takes a sip of his tea and nods to Qrow’s slouched form. “Close your eyes and slow down your breathing. Oh, and sit straighter. It will make breathing much easier, trust me.”

Qrow rolls his eyes but complies.

He breathes and waits and listens to the Ace Op own breathing not even two feet away from him.

“Now I want you to picture the room we are in right now, in as much detail as you can manage. Take your time with it and don´t open your eyes when you are not sure about some of the things. Just breathe and think and picture your surroundings.”

Curiously, Clover is easily the first thing Qrow manages to picture, chin still sitting on the backrest of the chair, the steaming cup in his hands. Brown hair, sleeveless white uniform (why is he still wearing that that thing at nine in the evening?) and teal eyes staring at him intently.

Everything else is not that easy. How many plates are there in the drying rack? What shade of grey are his bedclothes? Had he drawn the curtains or was there moonlight shining in?

When he is finally convinced to have the full picture in his mind he nods, trusting Clover to have an eye on him.

“Good. Now I want you to concentrate on your semblance. I know this won´t be quite so easy because your mind and your experience will tell you to focus on your Aura instead. Try to ignore that. When you can feel it, try to project it onto your room.”

“That when the snowflakes appeared?” Qrow asks while holding on to the picture in his head. He can hear Clover chuckle and blow unto his tea. “Yup.”

So he tries.

He breathes and focuses on his surroundings and himself. There is something, at the back of his mind and he pulls at it, drags it to the forefront, but it is deep red and he realizes that it must be his Aura. He feels frustration rising, so he breathes in and out, slowly, deeply, while concentrating only on the lavender aroma of the tea and the warm feeling spreading from the cup in his hands through his arms and to his chest.

Then he feels it.

It is softer, more subtle, but very clearly not his Aura.

He drags his focus away from the scent of his tea and onto the picture in his head again. There, very faint and farther away than he would have thought, he can see something golden at the other side of the room. He follows it with his inner eyes, and it becomes apparent to him that it is some sort of ring, encircling himself and also Clover and a good portion of his apartment.

Could that be the range of his semblance?

He takes a closer look and sees some flickering movement above that ring, golden as well, but lighter, almost like the sunset-sky he so loves to soar towards in his avian form.

Qrow looks up and there is more flickering above him, all of it coming together in a dome above his head.

He is surrounded by his semblance and even though he has already known that for quite some time, it feels different to actually _see_ it with his own, albeit inner, eyes. See how far it reaches, but also that there is a limitation to it. A strict edge, a line that he can see now, and might even be able to use to his advantage!

“What the fuck” he breathes and that brings him back to reality.

Qrow looks at Clover with wide eyes and not knowing what to think.

The fatigue hits him like a brick.

He has to lay down onto his mattress and close his eyes for a moment. There are gentle hands taking the cup from his hands and putting them on the nightstand next to Qrow’s head. He is too tired to even raise his head from his pillow.

“It was there” he mumbles nonetheless, trying to form into words what he had just experienced. “And it was golden, just like yours. But there were no snowflakes. More like a dome, or… or a… it was like a shield, maybe. No, that makes no sense.” There are no more words left in his mind. He is so very tired.

“Hmm” comes Clovers thoughtful voice. Then the Ace Op chuckles and Qrow feels how there is suddenly a blanket wrapped around his body and then there are fingers in his hair, gentle, stroking a few strands out of his face and behind his ear.

“Sleep”. Clover sounds amused and oh so very kind and in his weary mind Qrow thinks he’d like to fall asleep to the sound of it more often.

Then the fingers are gone and the door to his apartment closes with a soft click and Qrow is alone.

Good thing he had already put his pajama pants on, he manages to think before sleep carries him away.


End file.
